


Following Quietly

by HK44



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Inspired by Orpheus and Eurydice (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:00:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25927786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HK44/pseuds/HK44
Summary: Nico leaned down and whispered something to him. He only continued to stare at Jason, even as his fingers began to strum against the instrument in his shaking hands. The music played, solemn, for a few seconds before Nico joined in. Jason didn't understand the words, he didn't speak Italian, but his body clenched up. He couldn't look away from Nico.aka, an Orpheus and Eurydice fic
Relationships: Nico di Angelo/Jason Grace
Comments: 6
Kudos: 76





	Following Quietly

**Author's Note:**

> Keep seeing Orpheus+Eurydice posts about Jason and Nico and I adore @butt-puncher (tumblr) so yeah, let's do a small thing.
> 
> Fair warning I've never read ToA in my life and don't plan to so 🤷

Jason wrung his wrists as a bunch of skeletal guards yanked him from Elysium and dragged him to stand front and center in the throne room. His back crawled, a weird shivery sensation that made no sense in his ghostly mind.

Maybe they were here to discuss the fact that he was obviously... A little fucked up. Everyone else in Elysium paraded around joyfully. He mostly hid between beautiful buildings and wished, somewhat, he'd been sent to the Asphodel Fields. His memories just made him feel lonely.

For once, he wished they'd vanish again. Then it would be easier to be dead.

He'd asked around but no one else ever had the same problems. Some of them mentioned waiting for others to arrive but, for the most part, when they welcomed through the gates, they finally felt as ease with their state. Like an ongoing slush of happiness and freedom.

Jason had not experienced any of that.

He hovered in the center of the throne room, staring balefully at the empty thrones ahead of him. His knees quaked beneath him.

Would it be a upside if they changed their minds? He supposed wandering the Fields wouldn't matter. He'd become just a husk of himself. He wouldn't even know.

He flexed his fingers. Maybe he could request rebirth. That... Hadn't been the plan. His life had been a mess the first go around. He just...

Well, he didn't know.

Wait for his friends? Wait for everything finally click? Wait for Elysium to seem like paradise already? He didn't know.

He did know that starting over, unknowing of what his new future would lay out for him, was not something he'd ever been wanting. Other kids spoke of trying over and over again for the Isle of the Blessed, but who's to say heroism would even happen the second, the third time's? Who's to say they wouldn't be dunked into Punishment for eternity?

It wasn't worth it. Not to him. Especially if dying let your old memories spark back. He'd talked with a few two-timers to know it did.

"So." He jerked at the voice. His instinct was to turn but something held him in place, refusing to move him. "This is him?"

The voice was soft, like a warm breeze in the spring. But he'd never heard it before.

The voice that answered though...

A faint shiver plunged through his core. His ghostly form cracked in a few places, almost shattering and dissipating in place.

"Yes."

Nico.

He could've cry.

The earlier voice clicked their tongue. The clack of heels echoed across the floor until he was presented with the full view of a dark-skinned woman adorned head-to-toe in black roses. Her dress was a mix of white and gray, shimmering. When she moved, he swore he saw hands and faces pushing at the fabric.

He swallowed and looked back up.

He didn't want to become part of the dress. But Nico - Nico wouldn't do that to him.

Right?

"He doesn't look like much," she said.

"You say that about every hero, my dear." Hades walked into view. He moved so silently that Jason hadn't even heard him enter.

He took his wife's hand and drew her to the thrones, waiting until she was seated before following suit. Jason wanted to run.

Their eyes spoke danger.

"Well." Hades gestured loosely. The lights in the room dimmed around the edges, shining firmly on Jason in the center. Around them he could hear chittering voices, laughing and talking amongst themselves. "Make your case."

Make his case? For what? He tried to ask but his lips felt glued shut. He couldn't even mister a grunt behind his teeth. He was silenced.

Nico's booted clunked forward. The light shine on him now as he stepped into Jason's focused view. His hair was longer than it had been the last time he'd seen him. Shaggy just below his shoulders and in a loose ponytail. He glanced over his shoulder and sent Jason a low quiet smile.

Then he turned back to his father. "Do you want me to sing you a song about it?"

"I love songs!" someone called out from the spectators.

"I know, Pasithea," Nico said patiently. "Unfortunately, you're not the one I have to convince."

Persephone leaned over and whispered something in Hades's ear. He snorted and kissed the top of her head. Her hand curved over his atop their shared arm. It connected both thrones together. She looked back down to her step-son.

"Sing us a song, little boy."

The words sounded mocking but there was only playful amusement in her tone. Nico sighed, as though resigned to his fate. Hai fingers snapped into the air.

Skeletal guards marched forth. A chair settled down a few steps next to Jason, but Nico didn't sit. Instead, seconds later, another ghost took place on it. He kept his head ducked. His form shook as a guard shoved a lyre into his hands.

Lyre?

"Orpheus," Persephone started. Her voice was laughing. "That's no way to address your monarchs. Say hello."

The ghost looked up at them. Jason twisted his head - not his body, he still couldn't move that - and saw nothing but mirth and misery in the man's eyes. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

A hot flash hit Jason's face when the ghost turned and he saw what looked to be a keyhole against where his voice box would've been. Nico leaned down and whispered something to him. He only continued to stare at Jason, even as his fingers began to strum against the instrument in his shaking hands.

The music played, solemn, for a few seconds before Nico joined in.

Jason didn't understand the words, he didn't speak Italian, but his body clenched up. He couldn't look away from Nico. Every instinct in him told him to remain alert, present, but he couldn't tear his eyes from the profile of the boy before him. His voice was good but untrained, haunting but homely. It quivered and dipped. Jason wished he could move. He didn't know what he'd do - drop to his knees probably - but he wanted to do something.

Instead of just staring.

The song only lasted a few minutes but at the end of it, there was only a thundering silence.

He leaned over and whispered something in Orpheus's ear. The ghost's mouth fell open, his face contorted into a sobbing expression, bur still no sound echoed from his lips.

"Macaria," Hades said, waving his hand.

Macaria, Jason had met her during his orientation into Elysium. She hopped forward and pulled Orpheus out of his chair, fishing a black key from her pocket. She pushed it into his throat and turned. When she pulled it out, a hash of whispered thanks and moving sobs echoed from him, filling up the room.

Macaria entwined their fingers together. "Let's get you to your girl, shall we?"

Jason hadn't a fucking clue what was happening. He tried to stare his question into Nico's face but his head moved his gaze forward again. He was stuck, watching the two gods before him once more.

Hades clicked his hands against the other arm of his throne. Even Persephone seemed bothered. "This is a terrible bargain, Nico. I can't save you if you fail."

"I make my own choices," Nico said. "And it's not terrible. It's very worth it."

"I don't agree," Persephone said.

"I miss him," was all Nico replied as he stepped forward again, just barely back into Jason's view. "He's my favourite."

Somewhere behind him, someone yelled out, "I thought that Percy kid was your favourite?"

The back of Nico's neck, his exposed ears, is shoulders - they burned with a red flush. "He's my... _attainable_ favourite."

Hades stood up. Persephone took his outstretched hand and they walked off their thrones and down to them. Hades released his wife's hand. She seemed horribly muted, her eyes wet.

"You know the rules. Don't look back," he said. "I cannot have my child become my plaything. It just sounds perverted."

"And disappointing," Persephone whispered. Her hand caressed Nico's cheek softly. "I don't want you to be locked away.

Nico nodded firmly. "I don't plan on being locked away."

The two gods stepped back. Hades clasped his hands together. "No help, no assistance. I don't care how much you like my son. He's chosen this trial. He'll do it himself or face the price."

Trial?

What was happening?

An uneasy hush broke over the room. Nico didn't turn around but he did reach back with one hand. The spell of entrapment shattered over Jason like a hot splash of lava. He reached out immediately, clasping his fingers with Nico's.

Just like that, the lights dimmed back on. Jason's feet began to move forward. Nico's shoulders tensed and then relaxed. He took a deep breath and then started walking, a slow circle around the throne room to the exit.

Jason wondered why he didn't just turn around.

Orpheus slipped back into his mind. A trial.

_I missed him._

"Nico?" he tried to say but he couldn't speak. His words fell out in a ghostly chitter that sounded nothing like him and everything like the spirits he'd seen wandering the Fields. As they walked, Jason pulled forward by Nico's tight grasp, he caught sight of gods and spirits and nymphs and demons standing along the walls. None of them said anything to them, but whispered uneasily to themselves instead.

Jason pulled his focus forward, watching the back of Nico's head.

As soon as they had exited the palace, a chattering of voices began to echo around them.

_Turn around_ , they laughed. _He’s not there. He’s let go. He’s forgotten you._

With every word they spoke, Nico’s shoulders only seemed to bunch up. His grip became more and more tense.

“I won’t turn around,” he said. “It’s not just me on the line but you too. I wouldn’t fail you, Jason.”

_He’s not listening. He’s gone._

_I’m not_ , Jason thought. He still couldn’t speak or move without following Nico’s every step but he wished he could swat the voices away somehow. _I’m here._

_“_ I know you’re there but I can’t feel you,” Nico said. “It’s a stipulation of the trial. Most people can’t feel ghosts anyway. Orpheus - my father may have liked his voice but he sparked a nuisance of people coming in and trying to get people out. Being locked away, haunted by the voice of his beloved, his failure - that was his punishment. My father brings him out for parties though.

“I made a deal with him. If I fail, Orpheus is let free and I take his place. Locked away and paraded around for parties. If I win, all the other failures are set free and the trial is no longer allowed to be used. Everyone who tries will either die in the presence of my father or be sent away instead,” he said. “You didn’t deserve to die the way you did. Not when everyone else has cheated death dozens of times. I won’t turn around and I won’t let go.”

_Why though_? Jason followed mutely. _Why bring me back? Deserving or not, death is final for a reason. You should know that._

_“_ It’s not the same without you,” Nico went on. They began to track through the Fields. Jason couldn’t even see the exit but Nico hiked on like he knew where he was going. “I’ve always loved quietly. I never realized how much I was still hiding from myself.”

Jason blinked. What?

“You don’t have to reciprocate. I’d do the same thing for Percy and I know he never will. Will is debatable at best. I don’t think we were ever compatible. More of an attempt to move on quickly but I do care for him so it is possible I’d miss him physically. Frank is a given but I think Hazel would probably take up stock with him first.”

_Nico_ , Jason screamed in his head. _What are you talking about?_

“Love is complicated, isn’t it? When Persephone married my father, she did it because she knew no matter how much he loved her, he’d always let her go. She doesn’t even have to come home, if she didn’t want to. It’d be so easy to keep her here too.” Nico paused next to a poplar tree, looking left then right and then slowly winded around it, his hand pulled Jason in a wide arc. Jason caught a glimpse of his eyes, closed shut, before his face vanished again and they continued forward. “Your father can spew whatever rhetoric he wants about how only half a fruit means half a year but he doesn’t command the Underworld. My father lets her go because freedom is worth more than anything.”

He laughed. Jason wasn’t sure the last time he’d heard it, genuine. It made him warm. He wanted to speed up, gather Nico in arms and hear it again but he couldn’t move any faster than he was.

The doubting voices kept whispering but Nico ignored them, talking through them like it was nothing. His voice was bright and energetic in a way Jason had never heard. But Jason could see the tension still building in him. The way he slowed and twitched like he wanted to turn around. But he didn’t. He kept pushing forward. “When we’re outside, I’ll let you go. I can do that. It won’t hurt. I’m saving you because I’m selfish but I’m not cruel.”

_Be selfish_ , Jason thought. He wanted speak. He wanted to say the words so bad. _Please be selfish because I don’t know if I can._

Jason had never really been selfish in his life. It was obviously something that had occured but off the top of his head, he couldn’t think of anything bigger than shoving another demigod out of the way because he wanted the last fruit cup. He was a sacrificial person.

He wasn’t Percy. He wouldn’t destroy the world for his friends. Painful to admit but true. He’d still fight to the death for them. He’d still give up most anything for them.

He would die if it could save people.

“I love you, Jay.” Nico’s voice was soft. It was so much different than the last time Nico had confessed love for another boy. That had been anguished, pained, scared, hurt. This was said simply. Like he was talking about the weather. “This path should just be an hour. My father can take away my inherent knowledge of the Underworld but he can’t take away what I’ve memorized.”

If they made it outside, Jason was going to scream.

The hour crawled on. The voices didn’t shut up. Every so often, Nico would cut it in with some random fact about bees or mention offhandedly who the spirit they were passing was but even he was getting bothered. Jason tried to figure out some way to prove his presence. He could _not_ let Nico become locked away, some god’s plaything. Paraded out in front of others, unable to move or speak without permission

Nothing occurred but he wouldn’t stop trying to talk, to squeeze Nico’s hand, to rush forward.

They broke out of the fields into the shore of a rushing river. Nico hummed loudly.

Then, “I knew I should’ve stolen Hermes’ stupid shoes.” He leaned back slightly and screamed, “CHARON! GET YOUR DAMNED BOAT OVER HERE!”

There was a pregnant pause before, “NO! THAT’S NOT HOW THAT WORKS. BOAT STAYS HERE, GOES OVER, DROPS OFF, COMES BACK!”

“Oh, I hate him,” Nico muttered. He scoured the shore. Jason made sure to quickly hop out of his view every time, it so much as shifted slightly into his presence. “Where’s Dad’s boat?”

They walked along the shore for another twenty minutes until they stopped at a large bone sticking out of the ground. A silver chain hung off it and led into the water. Nico took a breath and let go of Jason’s hand. Jason kept following him anyway.

He pulled at the chain, grunting as he dragged the small canoe onto the surface. When he was done, ten minutes later, he was panting, keeled over with his hands on his knees. He muttered something in Italian and kicked the boat.

It was made of skeletons, all merged together to form one very creepy canoe.

“It used to just be obsidian and wood but Persephone burned that one and had everyone help her make this one because-” Nico snorted. “-it came to her in a _dream_.” He shook his head. “She’s so weird.”

He stepped into the boat, picking up a paddle. Then waited. Jason quickly darted into the boat. Still Nico kept waiting, staring at his watch. After a few minutes passed by, he whispered, “I hope you’re in.”

Then he pushed the paddle into the water and began to push the boat forward. The river fought against him, rocking them wildly. Nico grunted against the forceful push.

It was like everything was working to keep them away from the exit.

To keep Jason where he was supposed to be.

Finally, half an hour later, they made it to the dock. Nico’s arms were glistening with sweat. He undid his ponytail then redid it back up, shaking his hands. He hopped off the boat into the dock.

“Watch your step,” he said. “And shift with me. I have to kick it back to shore. Normally, it’s not this hard but-” He shrugged. “-no benefits, remember?”

Jason stepped onto the dock. He waited behind Nico, another few minutes, before the other began to turn. Jason turned with him, always one step out of view. Nico kicked the boat off the dock. It sailed off into the murky black water.

Jason couldn’t even see the shoreline.

He shifted with Nico again, until the other was ahead of him once more. They walked along the dock, passing by the bigger boat that had carried Jason over the river when he first arrived. They stopped in front of a door. Nico pushed it open, holding it for Jason to step through.

Charon looked up. His suit was still as immaculate as it was when Jason first met him. He was flipping through a magazine.

“He’s not there,” he said in a sing-song. “He’s not stepping through at all because _he’s not there.”_

_“_ Shut up, Charon,” Nico grumbled.

Charon just flipped through the magazine again. Nico waited another couple minutes before letting the door slip past his fingers. It slid through Jason’s ghostly form as it shut.

As he began to walk forward, towards the door ahead of them on the other side of the lobby, Charon piped up again. “It’s not going to work.”

“It is,” Nico snapped.

“You’re going to fail. And we’re all going to mourn you, Nico.” His voice turned saddened, weakened by it’s own misery. Jason, he never looked at Jason, as though he wasn’t there. “Why would you hurt us this way, for someone who won’t even follow?”

Nico froze, his fingers against the door. Jason quaked where he stood.

“Tell him,” Charon called out. The other souls in the room snapped their attention, their murmuring voices silenced, their patient faces saddened and withdrawn. “Tell him he’s not there. Can you see anyone behind him?”

“No,” they all whispered, a cacophony.

_He’s lying!_ Jason thought. Nico’s shoulders were trembling. _Don’t look!_

“I know you’re just doing your job, Charon,” Nico said, his voice pained. “But I am going to dye all your suits pink when I come back to visit.” His fingers grasped the doorknob.

“If you walk out that door without him behind you, you still lose, Nico,” Charon said. “You won’t be able to dye anything because you’ll be in a box. Maybe if you beg your father for forgiveness now, he’ll take it back.”

Nico shook his head. “What is forgiveness in the Underworld?”

Then he turned the doorknob and yanked the door open. Jason followed dutifully, his eyes frozen on the back of Nico’s neck and the light that echoed ahead of him.

**Author's Note:**

> [Links](https://hk44.carrd.co)


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